


Less like a feather, more like a stone

by tiddlersinajamjar



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, contains spoilers for the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:10:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiddlersinajamjar/pseuds/tiddlersinajamjar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers doesn't like Tony Stark, at least he thought he didn't. That was until he saw Tony fall from the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Less like a feather, more like a stone

**Author's Note:**

> Something that was inspired by 'The Avengers'. I just have a lot of feelings, and this was a result of too many viewings and a very, very late night. This is my first fan fic, unbetaed and everything, so it's a miracle I've even posted it really. Read on if you wish! (P.S. how do you insert italics here?- edit: TOTALLY GOT IT NOW! Thanks to everyone who helped me sort this out <3)

The Avengers had been an impossible concept to fathom from the beginning. Steve, well Steve was old fashioned sure, but he at least was more stable then Banner, less emotionally vulnerable than Thor, and so far the opposite from Stark, that Steve wondered how the man left his home at all, without being strangled by someone. Not that Steve thought himself as perfect, but he had always tried to be selfless and modest, and this was inevitably amplified by the serum. Tony Stark was flash, modern and loud, all late nights and expensive technology, and he didn’t like taking the back seat, especially to an out-dated boy scout. 

But Steve didn’t have the time to be surprised by how well they, and the rest of the Avengers were working together. Loki’s minions were baring down, and Steve barely had enough time to catch his breath before the next drove was upon them.

His side searing with the sharp burn that would have killed him in another life, Steve glanced up and squinted against the falling ash to see Iron Man soar overhead, noticing the missile that Stark was firmly holding to his back. Tony directed the missile skywards after almost hitting the base of Stark Tower, his ragged breathing filling the comms. 

Steve frowned as he caught on. “Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip.” He had discovered that Tony’s philosophy when it came to a plan of attack was: “Attack” and Steve knew that Tony was acting on impulse, because _of course_ he was. But Steve had no better alternate route himself, so he remained silent when Tony replied in the affirmative. Tony seemed to draw every eye as he sailed towards the portal, and the hollow roar of the missile dissipated as both it and the man carrying it disappeared from sight.

Steve couldn’t move, he was vaguely aware of the aliens that were slowly converging on all sides, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the point where Tony had disappeared. He could still see the aliens traveling through the portal, see where Natasha had to be standing on top of Stark Tower, but all he seemed to be able to focus on was whether or not he’d see a red and gold blur come back through the portal, sans missile.

Because despite everything, Tony’s lack of team building skills, his brashness, his level of idiocy for a genius, he was a good man. When needed to, Tony would suit up and do the job like the rest of them, and this is why the Avengers _did_ work. It’s what Agent Coulson saw, it’s what Steve sees now, staring up into the sky like a farmer waiting for rain in a drought. Steve realises in that moment that Tony’s ability to work in a team situation signifies more than him surrendering his working habits for the common good, but more indicates that if Tony Stark can place his assets in the hands in a man from the 1940’s, then perhaps Coulson was right all along. That the Avengers can not only _avenge_ the world, but maybe even _save_ it in the first place.

But Tony doesn’t appear through the portal with a whoop of glee and satisfaction as Steve had been expecting. He sees an expanding light, an explosion of some sort through the open portal. To Steve’s surprise, the surrounding aliens collapse without a sound, the life in their eyes flickering and fading. “Come on, Stark,” Natasha mutters through the comm and Steve glances back up at where the blue line of energy meets the sky. But Tony doesn’t show and Steve looks away, because he just can’t watch anymore. “Close it.”

There’s a brief pause before he sees a flicker of light where Natasha is closing the portal, the fiery glow above her brightening as it draws nearer to the portal. As the gateway closes, Thor lets out an exultant cry, and Steve snaps his head back to see a gleaming, metal figure falling from where the portal had sealed itself, just moments ago. He lets out a breath and murmurs “Son of a gun,” just as he notices that something is very wrong with the way Tony is plummeting towards the ground, head over heels, with no apparent intention of slowing down. 

“He is not slowing down.” Thor puts in helpfully, swinging his hammer in preparation to take off, and Steve has that feeling again, the same one he had as he watched Bucky fall to his death, that feeling of helplessness, unable to stop himself from watching even though he wishes that he could. But it’s different this time, and the Hulk intercepts Tony’s imminent death, bracing the two of them against a building before making an ungraceful crash landing on the street below. Tony is being pushed onto his back before Steve can even ask himself why he is so worried about a man he barely knows, let alone dislikes. Thor rips off Tony’s faceplate as Steve falls to his knees at his side, one hand unconsciously covering the dull arc reactor in Tony’s chest. Tony doesn’t respond when Steve leans over and places his ear over Tony’s mouth. He fails to feel Tony’s breath, fails to recognise any sign of life. Steve can’t hear much over the blood in his brain or the insistence of the monologue that’s currently playing on repeat in his mind, that Tony is fine, that he’s going to make a snide remark any second about Steve’s costume, or how they should have kept him ‘on ice’. But Tony still doesn’t respond and Steve sits back, hand sliding back over the chest plate of Tony’s armour.

He sits there feeling numb. Feels like he’s back sitting in that bombed bar after Bucky died, with his 3rd glass of scotch before him, knowing fully well that it wasn’t helping anything. He knows it’s too late for CPR, he wants to try anyway, but he can’t bring himself to, knowing it would be futile. He can’t face the disappointment of giving himself false hope. The Hulk shuffles and growls a little under his breath, and Steve can’t take his eyes off Tony’s face, which is a little frightening to see without any animation. He doesn’t look like he’s sleeping to Steve, because Tony would never look so _still_ , so at peace. 

A loud roar breaks through Steve’s musing and he looks up to see Tony’s eyes open wide as he jerks frantically and tries to focus on the source of the noise.  
“What the hell?” he gasps before his eyes come to rest on Steve’s face, which Steve is sure looks relieved, because he felt the smile on his face before he had thought to smile, and he feels lighter, hopeful again. Tony is still talking. “Please tell me no one tried to kiss me.”  
Steve looks down quickly, away from Tony, embarrassed because the thought had crossed his mind briefly and he wanted to avoid the awkwardness that would follow if Tony found _that_ small detail out. He glances back up once he is sure it’s safe to, and surveys the destruction around them. “We won,” he says quietly, and Tony finally relaxes, his helmet thunking softly on the ground. Steve watches him breathe in and out and doesn’t even roll his eyes when Tony starts rambling on about taking time off, and shawarma. Steve doesn’t care if he is agreeing to shawarma, doesn’t care if he doesn’t even know what shawarma _is_ , his relief is overpowering and almost too much to handle at the moment. He just smiles and watches Tony talk, fondness for the man spreading through him. Because while Tony is the future, his values and qualities different from Steve’s, Steve has overlooked the hero in Tony. Steve can learn from Tony, which is a strange concept on its own but he’s seen it now, seen the sacrifices Tony is willing to make for good, seen that selfless streak, and how Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are not as different from one another as he thought. 

Tony laughs with exhaustion, and Steve feels a flutter in his chest that has nothing to do with relief, but more to do with the affectionate feelings for Tony. It’s like a warm trickle throughout his veins, and Steve pauses, confused. He has the overwhelming urge to crush Tony against his body, to hold him tight enough that he’ll never _want_ to leave. But no, it must have entirely to do with the fact that Tony nearly died, not with the way that his lips curl over his teeth when he smiles, the lines on his face creasing, the way his voice drawls in that self assured, yet manic way. Tony groans when Thor and Steve pull him to his feet, and Steve chuckles, but when Tony slings his arm around Steve’s shoulders with the words “Good job today, Capsicle.” Steve gets that flutter again, and thinks that perhaps, he’s gotten himself into a little bit of a situation.

**Author's Note:**

> It's incredibly nerve-wracking posting something here, but feedback is always appreciated as I'm hoping to improve! Thank you for reading <3


End file.
